


Hecatompathia 7

by nighttime_tea_party



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: First Time, M/M, Power Play, Teacher-Student Relationship, literature porn, puberty is a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-02-18 00:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2328101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighttime_tea_party/pseuds/nighttime_tea_party
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hardly ever do you find a piece of literature devoted to a loving wife, or a beloved son or daughter. 'Love' is not interesting to the poet."</p><p>During a lesson on British lyricism, Ciel learns more about himself than he ever wished to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hecatompathia 7

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dear reader, thanks for clicking that link to my fanfic. That was very sexy of you.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction and, additionally, my first try at creative writing since I finished school a few years ago. On top of that, English isn't my mother tongue, so be prepared that there will probably be a couple of awkward sentences in this. I did my best on this story, though, and tried very hard to stay in character for both Ciel and Sebastian.
> 
> I would be very thankful for criticism on the flaws of my writing (and storytelling).
> 
> This story was inspired by what a professor I had in an english literature course once told us: Most love poetry isn't about love. It's about the sexual fantasies of the author. That almost nihilistic approach left a deep impression with me and I thought that it'd fit sebaciel so well.

„ _Harke you that list to heare what sainte I serve:_ ”, the boy started reciting mechanically,

“ _Her yellow lockes exceede the beaten goulde;_ ”, his back straight but his face wearing a frown,

“ _Her sparkeling eies in heav'n a place deserve;_ ”, forming words like he forms his lips; mere phonemes to him, no meaning in his disconcerted voice.

“ _her forehead high and faire of co-_ “

 

„No, no, no.”, His butler sighed. Sitting in a chair in front of him, he had been listening to this horrible, horrible performance (if it was even worth being called a 'performance') and couldn't help but interrupt. “Young master, not only are you torturing my ears with your horrid intonation, which is by itself already rather unpleasant, but still endurable. No, you are taking classic english poetry, a piece of your own cultural heritage, and throw it into a back alley where it is robbed of all its pride and glory. That is something that I, the butler of the Phantomhive household, cannot tolerate.”

Standing opposite of his seated butler, Ciel stared in irritation and disbelief as Sebastian disrupted his recital of the sonnet Hecatompathia 7 by Thomas Watson, a poem they had been working on all morning. In anger, but more so in frustration, he clenched his fists and lifted his chin, opening his lips only a small bit, as to counter the other's statement, but withdrew before any sound could pass the slit, loosening his fists a bit. His frown worsened. The boy understood the tropes, he could analyse the rhythmic structure of the sonnet and he could explain the choice of words in a poem on their lexical and morphological level. He absolutely could not, however, understand _what_ he was working on analysing so thoroughly and that was clearly noticeable in the rather uninvolved way he recited the renaissance poem.

Sebastian had to think of a different way to approach the literary piece. A different way of familiarizing his ward with the substance of the poem. It was obvious that a boy of his master's age could hardly grasp the subtext, the emotional involvement the author put into his words. That very boy, standing in front him, hardly more than one and a half metres tall, face defined by soft cheeks and round lips, eyebrows arching but not yet hardening his face; An adolescent boy, not a child anymore, though nobody would dare call him a man, either. His young master was just that: Young. So young and inexperienced. Life had scarred him in measures most people would not be scarred in an entire lifetime, the boy of thirteen years had learned to know emotions nobody would want to learn. However, some of the simplest, most human emotions, were yet for him to fully grasp. Good education simply couldn't make up for a lack of personal life experience.

Little Lord Phantomhive, clenching his fists tightly again, finally brought himself to protest his butler's academical choices. “This is pointless, what purpose does it even serve to recite this stupid poem in front of you? Not like I'll ever burst into a business meeting lamenting about the oh-so-golden hair some oblivious, starving poet once fell in love with sooo madly,” he lifted his hands in rage, “On top of that, of all the people I can possibly imagine, my _demon_ butler would've been the last one of whom I had expected to torture me with cheesy love poems.”

Sebastian let a deep sigh at the young master's ignorant statement and combed back the pitch black hair that framed the left half of his face with his contrasting, white-gloved fingers. “My lord, the misconception you just put into words so wonderfully bluntly is the exact reason why I am insisting on you mastering this lyrical piece.”, he demanded with a hard expression, the latter unintentionally setting half a step back in reaction to the rather unexpected answer he received. The tall man sitting in front of him went on, “As the Earl of Phantomhive and head of Funtom Company, it is mandatory for you to sharpen your conception and understanding of the people you interact with on a daily basis. -”

“So what's that have to do with-”

“If you would be so kind as to let me finish my explanation, I'd gladly explain this in further detail.”

Now it was Ciel who sighed.

“Young master, I will not deny that observing people's intentions is one of your more refined abilities. However, when it comes to matters you personally have little to no experience with, you are imperceptive. This is why I am asking you now, what is this sonnet about?”

“Love, obviously.”

“No. Think again.”

“Are you trying to make a fool of me?”

“The way this is going at the moment, I do not even need to try to.”

“Wha- mind your words!”

The two males, the standing one's height not that much above the momentary height of the sitting one, exchanged unamused stares, their body language mirroring each other's discontent towards the other: Arms crossed, torsos slightly leaned away from each other. As this form of communication got old, the teacher brought himself to further explain his dissatisfaction.

“You fell for the common misconception that these kinds of texts are an attempt at expressing the human concept of 'love'. Well, I shall not blame you for that. I suppose some rather dense authors themselves, for their entire lifespans, might have never realized what exactly themselves were ever writing about.”

Ciel couldn't grasp at all what Sebastian was hinting at.

“I do not want to discuss 'love' with you. It is a vague human idea that has been the topic of discussions of poets and philosophers likewise for as long as I can remember. Yet, most people would agree that the foundation of this idea is always some sort of emotional attachment, a strong, if maybe often one-tracked bond felt towards somebody, or so I have observed. Young master, do you think there is such thing as love at first sight?”

Ciel narrowed his eyebrows, staring in disbelief, “What kind of question is that?”

“Answer, please.”

Ciel fidgeted. “No... no, I do not, of course. It is a silly lie people tell in fairytales and children's stories.”

“So, what makes you believe it a lie? Explain further.”

The boy had long since started to feel uncomfortable with this conversation. Love, or any kind of unnecessary emotion for that matter, was not a topic he liked to chatter about, much less so with his demon butler, especially because Ciel could hardly believe that a demon could ever take any feelings of 'love' seriously. He had loved his parents more than anything, until they were taken from him, so Ciel didn't doubt the existence of this emotion, however fragile and weak it may be. Sebastian, though, seemed to be the type to ridicule others for acknowledging that 'love' may have any influence on their lives at all. Despite that, the butler asked for his views on 'love at first sight'. It just seemed sketchy. Yet, or maybe because of that, Ciel carefully proceeded to answer, not giving in to the challenge that moron of a butler had confronted him with. “It is... ridiculous to believe that anybody could be able to develop such a strong kind of affection towards someone else in just an instant. There is no _bond_ of any form felt towards the first impression of the appearance of a stranger.”

Sebastian nodded slightly. “Then, what is it that people do feel towards each other, that can spark within the blink of an eye? Think of the observations described in the sonnet we are discussing right now. What kind of bond does a man have to the hair, the lips, the chest of a woman?”

He let that question sink in a little and watched the young master's slight change of expression: eyebrows lifting, expression easing but merely changing, leaving a fair share of tension within the facial muscles of the adolescent boy, who slowly started to realize where the tutoring butler's explanation was going.

Sebastian leaned forward, fingers crossed in his lap, staring at the younger one intently. “The vast majority of love lyric is devoted to women who are out of touch. Distant women whose purity is so tempting to be corrupted, but impossible for the poet to reach out to. Hardly ever do you find a piece of literature devoted to a loving wife, or a beloved son or daughter. 'Love' is not interesting to the poet. To mankind, I dare say. Those qualities, praised in uncountable lyrical pieces: in different context, most people wouldn't hesitate to call them out as superficial qualities; qualities one could easily observe when meeting somebody for the first time. Think about their appeal. What draws the author into them, makes him believe he's lost his heart to that person when it is really a different kind of fascination he has taken on? I ask you again, what is this sonnet about? If not power, what is it that mankind has always craved for?”

The dark man stared at Ciel piercingly, demanding an answer, and Ciel felt like his next guess could grant him luck. “It's... desire... fulfilment of carnal desire, isn't it?” The words tasted sour in the boy's mouth. He felt uncomfortable at this conclusion.

Sebastian's stare eased up a bit, taking on an approving tone, and he leaned back into his chair. “Good, young master.” This young master exhaled, in relief of having made it through this ordeal of an analysis. Then, a moment of silence.

“So, can we put this lesson to rest, now that I managed to look behind the surface?” The sourness still remained in his mouth. It was completely irrational but social conventions seemed to have had their share of influence on the Earl's morality. He certainly knew better, he really did, still he just couldn't help but feel uneasy about this subject. Sexuality, that is. It had been fine just looking at it from a biological point of view before, it was undoubtedly a crucial part of education. The boy knew that it was good for him to know what it was and how it worked. However, being confronted with it in a subject as emotionally involving as lyricism, needing to spend more than a thought or two on a stranger's sexual motivations, let alone talk about them, was so terribly uncomfortable. It was one thing to know about the human body's natural needs; an entirely different thing to debate an individual's personal carnal yearning on a personal level.

“We are still far from reaching the point where this lesson results in any educational value for you. Apart from that... I observe that it troubles you to discuss this topic.”

Damn him, he noticed. Of course he would.

Sebastian grinned, “It scares you, doesn't it, young master?”

“Wh-why would it scare me?” The young one's voice's pitch went up high. He actually didn't really want to hear Sebastian's explanation to that.

“You are afraid of yourself. Afraid that if you have to discuss somebody else's sexuality, it will confront you with your own.”

“Mind your own business, Sebastian.”

“I do not see the problem in simply sharing my observations. Or did I misinterpret you?”

Ciel hesitated. Shocked a little with the bluntness of the statement, he thought about his butler's conclusion for a moment. Was it true? Did all of this unsettle him because it got closer to him than he ever wished? The Earl had reached adolescence, of course he had noticed so much. Awkward awakenings, the butler must have had noticed as well, if not on Ciel, then on the sheets but so far he had never said a single word and the former had hoped it would stay like that. But no, it couldn't go on like that. The unspeakable was being addressed now.

Under other circumstances, he would have denied it with all he had got but at this point the boy felt that denying would only worsen his situation. He sighed.

“Sebastian, let us not make this about me. I will not go into further detail about this.”

“It wasn't my intention to further explore any more personal aspects on this matter. I apologize for making the young master uncomfortable but this was necessary to continue my explanation on how to interpret our sonnet.” Ciel had almost forgotten about that sonnet, already. Just how could a literary studies lesson escalate into something like this?

As if to answer this question, Sebastian continued, “You need to develop Empathy for and abandon your fear of sexuality. Whether you want it or not, it is a central aspect of society and in your world of adults, which you are so eagerly keeping up with, you need to be able to handle this aspect. And interpreting and reciting related texts poses as an alternative to first-hand experience, isn't that a very comfortable alternative?” The dark man smirked at the boy and the latter hated it. He detested it when the two were having an argument and Sebastian emphasized his comments with that smug smile on his face. Punching him in the face would feel so good, Ciel thought, though the demon would easily escape his punch and his dignity would fly away just like the fist that missed. For now, a detesting glare would be everything he threw at his terrible teacher. And as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Sebastian did have a point. It is a crucial topic in this world; people could reign with and be reigned by sexual desires. And discussing strangers' sexualities would undoubtedly be a lot less uncomfortable than analysing his own. However, he wouldn't just give in like that. “Let's make a deal, Sebastian.”

“A deal, young master?” This proposal came as a surprise.

“Yes, a deal. Prove to me that _you_ are capable of empathically reciting this sonnet and I will do so myself.” The moment Ciel had finished making the proposal, he regretted it. That surely was a bad idea, it sounded so much better in his head but as soon as the last syllable made its way out of the Earl's lips, he bit on them in regret. He couldn't take them back anymore, either. Something had made Ciel think that it would be uncomfortable for Sebastian to mimic emotional involvement in a human matter, comparable to his own discomfort with what had been said but thinking of it, the thought itself just sounded ridiculous.

The failure of the Earl's poor plan made itself clear very quickly, as the demon butler, surprised by the potentially fatal opening his master had provided in what had developed into one of their games, didn't hold back a subtle grin.

“...so?”, a hesitant voice aspirated.

“Yes, my lord, why not, although I am not quite sure what benefit you hope to gain from this proposal.”

The boy just crossed his arms. Oh dear, this time he might have messed up big time.

The tall man slowly rose from his chair and with a quick gesture towards the seat, he suggested, “May I recommend you take a seat to listen to my performance?” Watching Sebastian cautiously, Ciel followed the suggestion and changed position with the taller one, awaiting his performance. The boy crossed his legs, straightened his back and rested his hands on the upper knee. He would listen to this performance and maybe grasp a thing or two to copy in his own latter interpretation. Gaining profit from this situation was the utmost priority now. With an intent stare, the Earl nodded, to signal the servant that he could start.

Sebastian was served a grand opportunity. He hadn't predicted this lesson would take a dramatic twist like this but he wouldn't turn such an opportunity down. He quickly inhaled, preparing himself to start,

„ _Harke you that list to heare what sainte I serve:_ ”, beginning slowly and with a sonorous timbre;

“ _Her yellow lockes exceede the beaten goulde;_ ”, the dark man locked his eyes on Ciel;

“ _Her sparkeling eies in heav'n a place deserve;_ ”, in his posture an alluring grace, resembling a lord more so than a servant;

“ _Her forehead high and faire of comely moulde;”_ he watched as Ciel started to feel the intentions within the spoken words, subtly mingled with their literal value. Lifting his chin slightly and tightening the grip around his knee, he tried to fend off any trace of captivation.;

“ _Her wordes are …”,_ the demon was stared at by the boy, who wet his dry lips unconsiously, as if to serve as early proof that Sebastian was on the best way. The listener tried hard to keep the upper hand over this situation, a situation he had already lost control of at the very beginning;

“ _...musicke all of silver sounde;”_ , Sebastian's words were directed towards him, he knew. He heard. The words he spoke said one thing; his voice, however, strong, slightly forceful but in no way harsh, his face, perfect white teeth showing between controlled lip movements, every word triggering slightly different movements of his slim jaw, his little gestures, hands dancing through the air, as if to conduct the corresponding sounds, for god's sake, the terribly luring look in his finely shaped eyes: all of these told of intentions the young Earl would rather not have understood;

“ _Her wit so sharpe as like as can scarce be found;”_ , would rather not have found so menacingly enchanting;

“ _Each eyebrowe hanges like Iris in the sky;”_ oh god, that ungodly man's voice resonated in his very bones;

“ _His Eagles nose is straight of stately frame;”_ , did he just say, ' _his_ '?

“ _On either cheeke a Rose and Lillie lies;”_ , although he hadn't really moved, the Earl's posture looked nothing like in the beginning anymore: deeper breath finding its way out through slightly parted, still wet lips, a blush flushing his cheeks, fingers clawed around his patella, unconsciously pressing his legs together and his upper arms tightly towards the torso; it was an attempt to keep his head held high but all it did was illustrate the effect the tutor's performance had on the tutee;

“ _Her breath is sweete perfume, or hollie flame;”_ , a slight smile emerged on the demon's face, hinting at the affirmation he felt from watching the boy melt,

“ _Her lips more red than any Corall stone;”_ , he sung in the moment Ciel bit his lower lip, almost as if he had waited for this very moment to speak the line;

“ _Her neck more white, than aged Swans that mone;”_ , as the man's eyes wandered over the boy's pale cervical skin, the latter slightly lowered his chin to block the sight;

“ _Her brest transparent is, like Christall rocke;”_ , it didn't matter, though, as his gaze wandered lower. There was no point in trying to hide anything in the first place; the demon had seen all of him already, everyday, during dressing, undressing and washing, every detail, every flaw defining his young skin, his frail bone structure tracing through, every little mole decorating his forms;

“ _Her fingers long, fit for Apolloes Lute;”_ , the young Earl had already grown to know the feeling that creeped through every cell of his still growing body, at this very moment, spreading from torso to fingertips and every single hair on his body;

“ _Her slipper such as Momus dare not mocke;”_ , but he felt a kind of helplessness, not being able to inhibit what the full-grown man in front of him had managed to spark within him with mere words;

“ _Her vertues all so great as make me mute:”_ , Ciel knew he had lost this round, yet still he wasn't quite sure _what_ about these spoken words made him lose;

“ _What other partes she hath I neede not say,”_ , it was only now that Ciel noticed that Sebastian had come closer to him over the course of the sonnet. He had approached uncomfortably close, never lifting the gaze from his protégé;

“ _Whose face alone is cause of my decaye.”_ , bent down, he stopped just a little too far away to feel on his face the boy's heavy breathing that came out of unconsciously rolled lips. The demon's seemingly all-knowing eyes interlaced with the azure and perplexed single orb of his very human master. For a moment, neither said a single word.

After a while, Ciel exclaimed far too loudly and shrill to leave a composed impression, “Back off! You're way too close.”, a gasp for fresh air, “What do you think you're doing?”

Sebastian retreated and watched the perplexed boy. Subtly panting, he merely stared at the demon, though, not so much at the demon as through him. The Earl obviously needed a moment to recollect the fundaments of his composure, and that, Sebastian would grant him. Doing so allowed the man to awe at his personal piece of art, a ball of confusion, anger and arousal, sitting right opposite. It had been all too easy, but no less satisfactory.

Sebastian continued.

“Young master, I observe my performance was more than sufficient.”

Ciel just proceeded to stare, but now focused the stare on the demon again, instead of the invisible air behind.

Sebastian sighed.

“Young ma-”

“Sebastian, stop.”

Ciel had enough.

“Stop it. Stop screwing around. There is no way I-”

“But young master, I am merely doing my best at being a worthy tutor and following your orders, so-”

“Screw that nonsense! You can't make me believe that all of this is done out of the sincere belief that it will help me grow as a capable adult. You know exactly how...”, he hesitated. Glowing, scarlet red cheeks spoke instead.

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle. “What do I know, young master? I am afraid I do not quite understand.”

“I...”, Ciel hated the man, “I...”, he averted his stare.

Sebastian waited.

Ciel couldn't possibly admit to having been made advantage of. He couldn't. But what else should he say? Every attempt at lying would only worsen the situation he just wanted out of. No, that wasn't it. Not exactly. Whether or not pedagogic intentions had led Sebastian to initiate this lesson in the first place, and Ciel did believe that the initial plan actually was to merely educate him on lyricism this morning, the bastard then jumped at the opportunity to take a ride on his master's recent hormonal roller coaster. The lesson's timing had Ciel wonder whether the demon had waited for this time to come. Yes, the timing was perfect because his wish wasn't to get out of this situation. He didn't want to fight it anymore. Above all, Ciel had been craving for relief.

He gulped, leaned forward and glared again.

Ciel could have Sebastian do anything, if he so wished. He had been considering this possibility. Not without self-resentment, he admitted, but he had. And Sebastian's recently increasing provocations only fuelled his considerations. It wasn't morals that held the Earl back, though. It was the humility of admitting that out of all possible triggers, it was _Sebastian_ whom his carnal craves were directed towards. Sebastian seemed to have noticed long ago and giving in would've felt like admitting defeat. But then again, wasn't this torment what really made Sebastian win this game? Wouldn't Ciel seize the upper hand again if he went with his own will and took advantage of Sebastian's vulgarities?

“Let us end this farce.” Ciel's cheeks still burned but he had made a decision and that slowly gained him back his composure.

Sebastian merely tilted his head.

“You'd be a fool to believe me too naïve not to look through your advances and I'd be a fool to believe that you haven't observed my... well, my adolescence.”

The demon's eyes widened.

Ciel resumed, “I believe neither of us to be a fool of that kind.” He paused.

“Young master, what are you trying to suggest?”, he had an idea but couldn't yet believe it. His master had to tell him himself.

“I _decided_ ,” Ciel emphasized, “that it'd do my anthropological understanding better to do... _practical research_ on the matter, you see. Taking into account how much more efficient that method would be than over-analysing a poem,” the boy managed to sound cool and collected and his tension eased. “Besides, let's not pretend that it wasn't merely the vulgarity of the statement that held you back from suggesting field research in the first place, instead of presenting me this terrible sonnet.” Great job, Ciel, keep it up, give him a dose of his own medicine.

Ciel did have Sebastian startled for a moment. He had in no way expected the boy to be this blunt. Sebastian would have got him to this proposal someday, he had been sure about that, but not like this and not so soon. The demon had looked forward to a period of teasing until the young master could hold back no more and this just didn't feel like the breakdown of his prey that he had wished for. But somehow, he didn't mind. “So, you are trying to say that-”

“I am trying to say that we will now stop screwing around and get to the core of the matter: finish what you have started and sleep with me. This is an order, Sebastian.”


	2. My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130)  
> William Shakespeare
> 
> My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun;  
> Coral is far more red than her lips’ red;  
> If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;  
> If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.  
> I have seen roses damasked, red and white,  
> But no such roses see I in her cheeks;  
> And in some perfumes is there more delight  
> Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.  
> I love to hear her speak, yet well I know  
> That music hath a far more pleasing sound;  
> I grant I never saw a goddess go;  
> My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.  
> And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare  
> As any she belied with false compare.
> 
> Hi, I don't think anybody remembers this fanfiction but after 20 years I finished it. For the longest time I was afraid to ever touch it again and read the comments I received - but something (or rather, someone) made me look and since I seemingly didn't embarrass myself all that much, I felt like finishing the thing.
> 
> I still can't believe I wrote this, I never ever write anything. I probably won't ever write anything else anymore. But this kind of had to happen.
> 
> Everyone who read the first chapter, thank you! Thank you very much. And for all the people that actually liked it, I hope you'll see this and at least have a little joy in it.
> 
> Last but not least, let me voice my three major obstacles I faced writing this:  
> 1.) this is, unlike the previous chapter, smut. And I have no experience in writing smut. Like... we didn't do that in creative writing back at school...  
> 2.) English isn't my first language, I tried my best but there are probably a few awkwardly worded parts. Feel free to address those, I could learn from that!  
> 3.) Sometimes I have a hard time to determine what words to describe body parts with - I have a tendency to use Latin(/medical) vocabulary because English uses Latin words for body parts much more than my first language. However, sometimes I'm not sure if a word is usually termed with the Latin word or an English one. I hope this stuff won't sound awkward!
> 
> God, I have no idea how this website works, how do you people add the separate author's comments at the beginning and end of each chapter? I only find these kinds of comments for the very beginning and very end of the whole fanfiction. Sorry for the mess!
> 
> Ultimately let me say, thank you for reading! I hope I won't let any expectations down (even after all that time!)
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------

The pair had headed for the master bedroom. Ciel would have executed the task in the study but his butler insisted on moving to a more comfortable, more private place. The study is hardly a place for a first time of this kind; granted, it is hardly a place for first times of any kind.

 

The walk felt long and exhausting. Abstract thoughts rumoured in the boy's head, they felt like distress and vulnerability, but also like intoxication and desire. When the pair had finally reached the bedroom, the Earl turned around to watch his butler close the door behind them. The sight felt definite, there was no turning back unless Ciel was willing to lose face in front of Sebastian. It wasn't that Ciel didn't want to continue; he just felt uneasy with his unfamiliarity of the situation. He had no source of preparation for this, what he had learned in theory felt irrelevant to him right now. It was the dependence that bothered him the most. The dependence on Sebastian's expertise and the need to rely on his teacher. And it was ridiculous, considering how their relationship, their contract, was built around dependence.

 

Ciel automatically sat down on the bed, the place that usually granted him a feeling of familiar safety. He would shed his clothes soon, or rather let Sebastian make him shed them and this way, it was a little like taking off a good day's work's burden. At different times, it was a relief to sit down on the bed and finally loosen the restricting collar, to take off the shoes that held the Earl on the ground, to free his body, so he can be granted rest at day's end. Keeping this in mind, the boy thought of taking his clothes off now as means to take off his insecurities as well. As the sleek figure approached him, he visualised the way his butler always approached him to undress him. It didn't seem all too different, though there was certainly something different about his eyes. Ciel could've sworn to see a gleam he had never before seen in Sebastian's eyes. The butler's expressions were always so cold. Strangers would have mistaken his smile to be gentle and caring; Ciel, however, had only ever seen cold observance behind it. His smile was a mask he wore to convince his surroundings of his humanness. The only way for Ciel to tell any kind of emotion from the demon's face were his eyes, even though it still wasn't always this simple. But right now, it was obvious that there was something _gleaming_ in Sebastian's eyes. It was the first time it occurred to the boy that, maybe, he wasn't the only one who had desired the other for too long. If this were true, the Earl might have been granted a much greater power over his butler's actions than he would have ever guessed. At the moment, however, his mind was too absorbed with numbing desire to even attempt to play any games. For now, he would just let Sebastian take the lead.

 

The servant took off his jacket, pulled off his gloves and dropped the pieces of clothing on the floor. He knelt down and gently rid the boy of his shoes and socks. It didn't feel like it always felt: while loosening the shoes and stripping off the socks, Sebastian's touch was much more present, much directer. He stroked the calves and traced the form of Ciel's ankles. It felt warm, it felt pleasant. As the hands moved up above the boy's knees, Ciel laid view on the contract mark and without a second thought, he placed his own fingertips on it and traced the circular symbol. With his unoccupied hand, Sebastian pulled on the strings that held together his master's eye patch and threw it into the direction his own gloves were dropped, to reveal the identical twin of the symbol that tied the two together.

“ _My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun._ ”, Sebastian whispered.

“What?”

“I am not fully convinced that we can just leave the literary aspect of this lesson aside like this, young master. I assume you have read the piece?”

“My Mistress' Eyes are Nothing like the Sun, William Shakespeare's Sonnet 130. I was asked by you to read it in advance of our lesson...”

“...and frankly, you didn't understand it at all, did you?”

“No! That's not it... I... didn't really put any thought into it, though.”

“You found it rude.”

“Most likely. I am rather sure my fiancée would find it rude if I talked to her like that.”

“Let's think about it again.”

Ciel frowned. “You can't be serious.”

“Oh, I am very serious, young master. What kind of teacher would I be if I couldn't connect practical and theoretical research on the topic we are working on?”

Ciel wanted to protest but Sebastian's touch as he quickly unbuttoned his master's vest and shirt, the soft stroke of his bare fingers on the boy's skin and the other hand seeking its way beneath fabric, on to the slender adolescent's waist, they silenced any attempt to speak out. Instead, a voiceless sigh found its way out of his mouth. Sebastian looked up at his master's lips.

“...although, it might turn out to be absurdly difficult to apply the poem's denial of the time's beauty standards, for your features come rather close to a picturesque lady of that time for a young lord of your time.”

Ciel pulled an irritated face. Sebastian, though, proceeded to shove the clothes off his master's shoulders to reveal the small body frame that was hidden beneath them. “' _Coral is far more red than her lips'red_ ', yes, I agree. What a ridiculous exaggeration of facial features, to be comparing corals and lips. The only part of your lips that come close to coral are the little red chips scattered over them, the parts you carelessly bit this morning when you struggled with our lesson.” The butler ran his fingers over the lower lip he just described. Ciel thought that he should feel offended but instead, he found it strangely enticing how Sebastian had observed that.

The boy placed his hands on the man's shoulders, leaned forward and exhaled the words, “ _If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun?_ ”

Sebastian's expression lit up. “Good, young master, I see you have looked at the text longer than just for a glance.” he tapped the skin that covered the boy's pectoral muscles. “This is where the description differs, though, isn't it? Which makes sense. Shakespeare's emphasis lies on the feelings of affection, their independence from sexual desire. What stark contrast to our exclusively sexual one-on-one. I have seldom seen a chest that is whiter than the young master's, very desirable to both a 16th century familiar and contemporary connoisseur alike. Almost like a virginal canvas that waits for an artist to paint a picture on.”

The touch of Sebastian's parted lips and the sensation that came with the wet tip of the tongue that peeked out between them struck Ciel as a surprise and he couldn't hold back a little “ah!” before the lips retreated.

 

For a moment, Sebastian just watched the small Earl before him. His breathing heavy and hot, his eyes slightly narrowed. “...and we also have to disagree with the assumption that my lord's 'hairs be wires', haven't we? I take utmost care of preserving that softness while I wash your hair.”

 

Ciel wanted to do something, not just be done. He pulled on the man's necktie to loosen it and reached for the shirt's first button to undo it. Sebastian pulled the necktie off entirely but Ciel stopped him from doing any more, “No!”, he paused and reached for the other's collar, “I will do this.”

The demon chuckled, “Very well.”

A little nervous, the boy had to take a second and third try to unfasten the first button but his butler waited patiently. The second button worked on first try, as did the others and so he managed to unveil his servant's chest until the point where the vest stopped him from further unbuttoning the shirt. Sebastian couldn't help but open the rest on his own. The view excited the younger one too much. Sebastian saw Ciel's naked body every day, it was natural and normal but the other way round was exciting and new. He could probably count the times on one hand he had seen his butler, always perfectly presented, wearing less than his shirt, vest and trousers. Ciel wasn't even sure whether he had ever actually seen this chest or just imagined it while... oh well.

Anyway, as a matter of fact, this hidden chest was now revealed and close enough to touch with his own hands. It was almost overwhelming how different their bodies were: His own slender, frail, small, soft. His butler's strong, muscular, broad, tense. He couldn't help but lay his hands on the muscles that defined this foreign chest. It was a curious touch: the skin that covered this immensely strong body was soft. Soft just like his own. When he pressed his fingers on to this skin, they dug in a little. When he stroked it a little harder than one usually would, the skin moved a little with his hands until it was held back by the tissue that fastened it to the body beneath. It felt human, it felt real. The clavicles that moved with his shoulders, the Adam's apple that ran up and down as words left the throat. The moist breath that exited those lips, in the same rhythm the chest lifted and dropped. The hairline that became visible when Ciel brushed away the strands framing Sebastian's face, with each hair rooted beneath soft skin, growing out just like any human hair would do. Ciel had never consciously noticed but his very demonic butler mimicked the human he pretended to be so well. So incredibly well that to some degree, he had the tendency to forget for a few seconds the demon that hid behind this human mask. It was frightening and comforting at the same time. He wanted to see more of this human shell. He shoved the shirt and vest over Sebastian's shoulders, who then did the rest. Ciel wondered to which degree this man's body was human. When he touched his skin earlier, the sensation Sebastian had felt was just like the sensation Ciel would have felt on the receiving end, wasn't it? The desire he had discovered gleaming in those crimson eyes, it was the same desire the boy felt himself, wasn't it? To what degree was this supernatural being at his hands turning human?

Sebastian interrupted his musings, “My body is to your liking, I observe?”

Ciel blushed. “No, it's, I mean... I think I've never seen you like this...”

Sebastian chuckled. “Now, if you could see your own face, you would realise that the next line is absolutely wrong about my lord as well. ' _I have seen roses damasked red and white, but no such roses see I in her cheeks,_ ' those lines are hilariously inapplicable to the young master when the blush flushes his usually so white skin like this.”

Ciel averted his face in order to hide his embarrassment. If this was praise and not just provocation, the demon praised him way too much to have credibly ridiculed Watson's attempts at flattery. But then again, it was the purpose of their previous discussion to see through this attempt at bedding a woman. If the flattery didn't attempt to pretend to be anything else, there shouldn't be a problem in finding joy in this kind of erotic innuendo in a place and time where it belongs.

It wouldn't stay like that, though.

“The greatest truth lies in the following lines, though: 'And in some perfumes is there more delight, than in the breath that from my mistress reeks'”, Sebastian aspirated into Ciel's ear. “With your last proper meal having been a few hours ago already, your breath is starting to take on a sour scent.”

Ciel covered his mouth with both of his hands.

“Don't worry,” Sebastian pulled the hands away, “your breath smells human. Slightly hungry, to which I can relate.”

“Oh, won't you just shut your mouth.”

“Shush! It's true, ' _well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound_ ', than those ugly words you carelessly mumble.”

“You are a giant moron, do you kno-”

Ciel felt lips on his own. It was a new sensation. He had been kissed long ago, by his parents, he hardly remembered the feeling but he was sure it was nothing like this. The way this man's lips brushed over his own, the tongue that searched for Ciel's. It was startling for a moment, a little strange but oh so pleasant. He had always imagined it to be rather gross; exchange of saliva, teeth that accidentally collided, how could that ever feel anything but awkward? But no, this was nothing like he would've expected and although the boy didn't really know what to do with his own tongue at first, he let the far more experienced demon take lead, observe his movements and, eventually, reciprocate a little. And _god_ , did it feel wonderful. Ciel wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck and pulled himself closer to the tall man's strong chest. Tongue against tongue, skin against skin, it was almost surreal. The young earl enjoyed it a little more before bringing himself to separate his lips from his butler's to command, “Get on to this bed, immediately.”

Sebastian just smirked and took off his shoes with a swift movement before sitting on to the mattress and lifting his young master on to his lap. It was then that both really noticed the other's bodily expression of the desire they had for each other and it made each of them feel like they had power over the other. Ciel wrapped his arms around Sebastian's neck again. Sebastian caught his stare with his own. “How has it been for you so far, young master? Is it all going according to your imagination? The touch of my hand is far more exciting than your own mimicking it, isn't it?” Ciel just hissed and turned his head away, an opportunity for Sebastian to lay his lips on the boy's bare neck. He scratched the skin covering his prey's carotid with his canines. It would be so easy to just kill this little human on his lap. Regardless of the contract that bound them together, though, it promised to be much more fun to keep playing a little. The demon, instead, took a taste of his master's skin. His hot tongue caressed the location of the boy's pulsating, vital blood vessel and the boy moaned in return.

Sebastian shoved a hand between their bodies, reached for his belt and opened it. As he noticed this, Ciel saw another opportunity to take an active part and proceeded to open Sebastian's and his own trousers, though then he hesitated and looked up at the man as if to ask him to proceed again.

“You could continue on your own a little, you know?”

“You are my teacher, though, so show me how it's done.”

“How the young master is done?”

Before Ciel could react, Sebastian pressed him on to the mattress and peeled trousers and underwear in one off his master. The Young Master was a little startled but watched the butler eagerly. From this angle, the man's muscular body looked even more enticing. Every little movement made parts of this body flinch and Ciel couldn't help but wonder what it looked like beneath those trousers. He ran his foot over Sebastian's thigh and into his crotch, trying to communicate without words that he wanted the trousers off. Sebastian understood.

Ciel enjoyed the view of his servant slowly revealing the rest of his body. „I've been wondering,“ he spoke, „whether you've taken on this particular form to appeal to me. I mean, you could as well have taken on an ugly form back then. Was it your plan to appeal to me all along? Or are you just vain?“

„Well, that makes me wonder, young master, would I appeal to you in a different body? Would a female form manage to arouse you as much as this male form does?“

Ciel merely huffed in return. Did the demon just ask him whether he was homosexual? It took more to tease him, although... it made him wonder, would the demon be his object of desire if he'd taken on a female form? He honestly couldn't tell.

The boy didn't answer. Instead, he trapped the man between his calves to pull him closer. His butler closed the gap between them. Boldly, he pressed his own pelvis on the boy's, as if to confirm each other of their state of arousal. The hot feel against his own lower body sent a shiver down Ciel's spine. It was real, this sensation. What he had longed for for what felt like an eternity, this demon's body, it became his. Sebastian stroked _his_ thigh. He kissed _his_ clavicle. The boy was starting to understand lovers' jealousy. The mere thought of this man caressing any other body than his own disgusted him. This feeling of intimacy, nobody else should ever be allowed to enjoy it than himself. This man, no, this _thing_ was _his_ toy.

„May I proceed to go further?“, Sebastian's words broke into the thick fog of thoughts in Ciel's head,

„Eh?“

„Must I explain to you the next step?“

„No... no, of course not.“, only then it occurred to him that knowledge concerning sexual intercourse between men wasn't anything the average adult was educated on. It were Sebastian's teachings that had made him familiar with the matter. Just what you would expect from a demon, he thought to himself. “...go on.”

Sebastian smiled and reached for his trousers that were still lying on the bed. From one of the pockets, he took a small vial.

“You were carrying this around all day?”, Ciel huffed.

“Almost as if I'd seen this coming, right?”, Sebastian replied very quietly but just loud enough for the boy to understand, opening the vial.

Sebastian slowly poured the oily liquid on to his fingers. Ciel wasn't sure if it was all going too fast or too slowly. His whole body felt hot, longing to be touched but the prospect of being penetrated soon was a little unsettling-

And then it happened. Before he knew it, Sebastian had leaned over the boy once more to insert a slick finger between Ciel's spread legs. He couldn't hold back a hearty moan. When he had touched himself, he only ever stimulated his erection, never did he enter himself. All the intenser felt the single finger inside of him, especially when it started to move. Sebastian buried the finger deeper, then retreated a bit, then moved it a little sideways. Ciel didn't know how he could take it much longer. He reached for his throbbing erection but Sebastian caught his hand before he reached it. “No, no. You will come if you touch yourself now. What kind of butler would I be if I just let my master come early like this? The experience would hardly differ from your typical nights.” The boy's cheeks flushed cherry red at that statement. Maybe this idiot could stop mentioning how very well he knew about his nightly routine of searching for relief.

Sebastian felt the boy tighten around his finger at the tease, which he proceeded to work against with slow movements. Ciel's chest moved along with his heavy breathing. Through slitted eyelids, he watched the man stimulate his pelvic area and the way his own hips moved into the penetration. It must have been this action that led Sebastian to insert a second finger. Ciel felt his insides twitch but Sebastian caught the tension off with a well placed kiss on his lower abdomen. The arousal was slowly numbing his mind, thoughts spinning around nothing else than the feeling that possessed every cell of his body. “Just let me come,” was all he wanted to say but instead, a high-pitched moan was all that left his wet lips. At this point, he didn't think that he could make it long enough for Sebastian to enter him properly but little did he care, as long as he could indulge himself in this feeling to its full extent. Sebastian pulled his fingers out of the boy's body, just to load up on lube and have a third finger join the others in proceeding to grant the young master joy. Ciel tried hard to hold back another hearty moan but couldn't stop himself from a sob, accompanied by losing control over the movement of one of his feet and accidentally kicking Sebastian's shoulder. The latter leaned into the step, pressed his shoulder into it and, through this, the stray leg closer to Ciel, as if to emphasise the act of lacking self control. With his unoccupied hand, Sebastian caught the foot and lifted it a little further, so he could brush his own lips over the Young Master's inner ankle. “ _I grant I never saw a goddess go; my mistress when she walks treads on the ground._ ”

At hearing these words, Ciel did let a moan escape his lungs, though it was more of an annoyed whine than anything else. The demon just smirked that off and put the small foot back to its place, wide spread apart from the other. He could very well see how Sebastian enjoyed the view that granted itself to him at that moment. Though he would have looked perfectly composed for any outside viewer, the boy could see agitation in the man's curious stare, and undoubtedly, Sebastian's breathing pattern had changed. _Just like a human_. And as if the superhuman entity could hear his thoughts, he answered them with a new sensation. Sebastian spread his fingers inside of Ciel, forcing the boy's muscles to widen even further. And every time the fingers brushed the prostate, a shiver ran down Ciel's spine. Sebastian knew that if he proceeded to stimulate that point, the Young Master would finish off in no time but the time for that hadn't come yet. As he had the impression of the Young Master having widened plenty enough anyway, he withdrew his fingers in order not to drive him too far. Instead, he touched himself while ogling his handiwork. It took Ciel a few seconds to grasp what was happening but when he finally did, the offence rang through his voice, “What are you doing now?!”

“As things are now, the Young Master will reach his climax soon if I proceed any further.” A moment of silence. “I am aware of the selfish nature of my request but would you be so generous as to grant me the opportunity to enter you properly?”

Ciel couldn't believe he had just heard Sebastian plead to his _generosity_.

“To his own service, the Young Master might want to consider that that will be the only way for me to grant the full experience – for both of us.”

Ciel was so delighted by this profound confession of lust that he didn't really care whose benefit it would serve better to let the demon do as he pleases, so he just nodded it off.

The boy observed the way the man across him stroked himself. Only now did he realise how gentle and careful Sebastian had been with him: he wasn't nearly as gentle with himself. When Sebastian looked for Ciel's stare, the latter had to fight hard against the urge to relieve himself by hand but the thought of being rewarded by Sebastian entering him only a little later granted him the strength to hold back. And lo and behold, it didn't take Sebastian all that long to reach a point of arousal akin to his master's. When Sebastian reached for the boy's lower body to arrange it in a manner that was easier for him to enter, both of them knew that the usually rock-solid demon would melt away in mere moments – but that was ideal because so would Ciel.

Sebastian slowly but steadily entered himself into the Young Master. Though prepared by his butler to be entered, he still felt like just a little more and he would tear. It hurt but in a way and extent that wasn't off-putting but enjoyable. Sebastian had already entered so much of his length, Ciel was surprised he could even take that much, for the mere reason that his own body was so small, he honestly didn't expect it to hold that much space. When the hotness finally stopped to dig its way any deeper, Sebastian leaned down to the gasping boy, withdrew a little as he searched for Ciel's lips, only to thrust in and catch a moan off the boy's lips in a kiss. Ciel couldn't take it anymore, he tried to touch himself but before he could do that, Sebastian enclosed the boy's much smaller but equally hard erection in his hand, so instead, he dug his fingers into Sebastian's back. Ciel moaned in a way he had never moaned before, almost melodic in sound, undoubtedly very melodic to Sebastian. The tall man's thrusts were answered by rhythmic compressions inside of the tight little boy. He watched his master's facial muscles twitch accordingly, eyes closed but expression tense and overwhelmed. And as expected, the Young Master's body soon couldn't take any more. His eyes went wide open when he looked at Sebastian to signal what was to come and so it happened. La petite mort – the little death. If death really felt this sweet, Ciel couldn't wait for Sebastian to take his life away from him.

His hand still on Ciel, Sebastian caught off the outpour of his master. It was this seemingly unspectacular sensation – the feel of the boy's hot and sticky seed on his hands, the bodily fluid that, unlike blood, was shed on to him out of pure pleasure. The ultimate gesture of longing for Sebastian made the demon finally reciprocate the act inside of his human contractee.

Ciel twitched one more time at that sensation before Sebastian withdrew. The boy was exhausted. The difference between imagination and the reality he just experienced weighed worlds. When previously it had taken him a moment or two to catch his breath again, the problem he faced now was that he wasn't even sure whether going back to normal breathing would ever pull him out of this deep state of relief anymore. His mind was there and somewhere else; it was still in Sebastian's touch, it was resting on the soft pillow and it was floating in the room, circulating around the scene and dispensing into thin air.

 

Sebastian softly stroked the boy's hair. He found himself longing to do that, not to the Young Master's well-being, but to his own. Wasn't he a curious little boy, selfishly letting himself being serviced and giving nothing in return, yet Sebastian got so much more in return than he had gotten in a long, long time. In fact, he hadn't stopped receiving. The look of young Earl Phantomhive below him continued to intrigue. All the tension in his muscles was gone, any sign of defence or competitiveness peeled off like the final piece of clothing. It must have been the first time for Sebastian to experience Ciel like that. The boy had given himself completely to the demon, body and soul, and yet one had to wonder whether it wasn't an exchange to some degree.

Sebastian found himself unsure of the Young Master's further desires. Under different circumstances, he might have teased the young boy for the most far-fetched of reasons but that promised to be of no avail, considering the constitution of this pink bundle of flesh beneath him, mind numbed by his own hormones. Comforting seemed to make more sense, and so he did just that. He lowered himself to the boy once again, lips brushing over his blushed cheeks, stopping for a bit on his clavicles but continuing towards the navel area, where the demon softly kissed his contractee in what would have looked like a most affectionate manner to any outside viewer.

Ciel had started to sort through his thoughts and, although sleep was close to getting the better of him, barely but still managed to voice his first clear thought, “Wasn't there a line or two left of the Shakespeare sonnet?”

“As the butler of the Phantomhive household, I should know to drop a matter when it is most unfitting, shouldn't I?”

Ciel wasn't sure what to make of these words but he would delay the thinking to a later time. For now, all he needed was rest from this most exhausting literature lesson.

 


End file.
